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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965649">A series of random stories regarding my life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yelian246/pseuds/Yelian246'>Yelian246</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Asian Character(s), Asian-American Character, Everything is real life, Fangirls, High School, Hispanic Character, How Do I Tag, Linda V., Multi, My life isn't that interesting, Other, Randomness, Slice of Life, Volleyball, but it is fun, gen z humor, relatable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:28:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yelian246/pseuds/Yelian246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just little stories of events I can remember regarding my life and those around me, meaning my family and friends, and stories they have told me about themselves... if I can remember them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A/N</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A/N- Hello, this is just an A/N of me basically saying that this is the first time I write anything that I actually wanted to write and has nothing to do with school, well, not much... a lot. This is the first time I write something that is not a scholar essay, but I am writing this for the sake of a school project. Although, me writing a story is actually me wanting to write it since the teacher never specified how to do the project, which is to be creative for at least 248 hours and to record and write a report.</p><p>Please don't judge too harshly. Anyways, this entire "book" is going to be just writing little stories of my life and those around me, like my family and friends, but mainly me because that's what I know 100%. I will try to write any warnings that I might need to write, but I think it will just mostly be cursing since I am a 16-year-old High School student, it's bound to happen, but I will try to censor myself. Every chapter could stand alone unless I specify, and they are all random days or memories or a mix of memories, etc. Well, carry on to the next chapter, and I hope you like this book.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Let's begin with the introduction. My name is Linda V., and I am a 16-year-old High School Senior of the 2021 class. I was born and raised in Puerto Rico and moved to the United States of America when I was 12 thanks to my dad getting a job offer, and here I am, 4 years later, still here. My dad is from Puerto Rico, which is located in the Caribbean Sea in America, while my mom is from Laos, which is located in the Southeastern part of Asia, and they met in China, but that is a story for another time.</p><p>              I am currently experiencing the joys of High School during the Coronavirus pandemic year of 2020. Anyways, my hobbies are playing volleyball, listening to music (including kpop), singing in the shower, watching anime, reading fanfics, doing homework, worrying about college, all the gen z stuff, obsessing over characters, into many fandoms at one time, etc., you know, like a normal person I guess. There really isn't anything special about me, I just want to share my life because I honestly feel like I won't do much in the future since I have been questioning my existence and whatnot, especially since T!kT0k began and me and my friends send each other hundreds of videos a week.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N- I think this is good enough for introductions. Thank you very much for reading.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. That One Day in a Volleyball Tournament</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, as you all know, I play volleyball. In fact, I have been playing it since I was 4 years old, making this year my 13th year playing (I am turning 17 in December). Well, today's story is how even after four years, I get teased over a small accident that happened in my freshman year of High School (9th grade).</p><p>Anyways, what happened was that me and my volleyball team were at this tournament in the OTVA south facility, and we were in the middle of a rally (if you don't know what a rally is, it is just basically playing until one of the teams gets the point and a new rally begins) when the incident happened. At the moment I was playing outside hitter/wing spiker, and I hit the ball hard. Apparently, I have always been strong, but I also did CrossFit, so I was even stronger than before.</p><p>Well, we were playing against this team and this 50+-year-old woman passes by the bleachers (which are literally 3 feet away from the court, meaning too close). Normally, when a rally is going on, everyone waits until the rally stops or at a safe moment to be able to cross to the other side because a ball could go anywhere, or a player could be running and crash onto a spectator, basically, anything could happen. However, this woman decided to just cross while the rally is going, and I was on the other side of the net, so that means, that when we hit or pass the ball over, it goes to the area she was at. Keep in mind this was my first year playing outside hitter since previously I played middle blocker. The setter of my team gave me a ball when I was back row (meaning the back part of the court that is separated by a line) and I hit the ball really hard, but it, unfortunately, went out of bounds and directly unto that woman. The ball hit the woman hard enough to make her fall down and hit her head against the metal bleachers. Everyone was in shock, even the referee, and especially me. We all looked as she fell and hit her head and as the people around her tried helping her. My teammates and coach looked at me as I went under the net and ran towards her to apologize, heck, the referee gave me time to apologize and did not count it against the team other than the rightful point going to the other team due to the ball going out of bounds.</p><p>I apologized and helped the woman up and she brushed it off and forgave me since it was not my intention at all, I didn't notice her and I was just hitting really bad. I felt horrible when I saw a bruise forming on her face, but some paramedics that were nearby (it's a sports tournament, everyone gets hurt) took her and gave her ice since the only thing that happened to her was a bruise (thank goodness)and I returned to my team and we continued playing.</p><p>However, the damage was done and I will be forever teased about that moment. My coaches, my teammates, and my parents tell everyone that story whenever they can, to my embarrassment. Seriously, last year during senior night, one of the seniors who played with me had to pick what was the greatest moment she experienced and announce it to the whole gym, she literally told that story as if it was the greatest moment of her high school career.(A/N- as shown in the picture below). I also said that my coaches tease me. Well, my coach is the head coach of the club so he was hiring a new coach and when we were introducing ourselves he decided to tell the new coach that story of me hitting the ball and I was trying so hard to ignore the conversation they were having, but the new coach came up to me for clarification and I swear my face was so red from the embarrassment. I get it, it is funny when I think about it, still makes me feel embarrassed though.</p><p> </p><p>

</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. My Grandma Being Impatient, as Always.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Today’s story revolves around how my grandma is super inpatient and the consequence of being so. Warning: mentions of blood, not that much but just a warning to be safe.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, one day I was hanging out with my childhood friends, Denisse R. and Cristopher R., and we were at a movie theater with their dad watching the new St@r W@rs movie that came out that year, St@r W@rs: The Force Aw@kens. We then ate some ice cream at the Cold $tone that is found right next to the movie theater. We were on our way to my house to drop me off or to hang out more, I'm not sure, since their dad was one of my dad's best friends. I lived on a small farm, in Spanish is "Finca", and so we had to go down a small hill and then go through a small gate to reach my house, which is right next to my grandparent's house since we both lived in the same small farm.</p><p>As we reach my house, we see a silhouette standing in front of my garage, and turns out it was my grandma. She had a towel pressed on her head and waved at me to get out of the car to open the garage door since it needed the code to open, and so I did. As I was reaching her, I noticed that her hair was wet, then with closer inspection, her head, hair, towel, and hand were covered in blood. I panicked a bit because my 65-year-old grandma was in front of my house just standing there and blood all over her head. I called my parents since they are doctors and would know what to do and told them about the situation. My mother was at home while my dad was away, but he told me he was close by so he would get home really soon.</p><p>We went upstairs and my mom cleaned up the blood on my grandma's hair, head, and hand, and me and Denisse helped her out. My mom is a Chinese medicine doctor, so she didn't have the proper tools or degree to deal with this problem, so we had to wait for my dad to get home since he did have the tools and the degree. He got home, and instantly went into work, with me, my mom, and Denisse helping him out since there were no nurses around and we wouldn't have enough time to go to the E.R. at the rate she was bleeding out. Turns out, the wounded area was a crack on top of her head, and so my dad cleaned it up more and put anesthesia to be able to stitch it up with our help (and yes, both me and Denisse will write this in our college essay as an experience for when we apply for pre-med or med school, and I know because this was the moment both of us decided to become doctors as well). While this whole thing was happening, my grandma told us how she got the crack on her head.</p><p>A couple of hours before we arrived home, my grandma was cleaning her house and putting stuff where they belong. She had bought this big stone sculpture to put on the wall of the outside of the house (A/N-something shown like the picture at the bottom). As noted in the title, my grandma is super impatient, and so she decided to hang the stone on the wall by herself since my uncle that was supposed to help her was running late. And so, she took a ladder, put it on the uneven grass (it's like a small hill or bump on the earth) took the heavy stone, and put it at the top of the ladder. As she started climbing up the ladder because the grass was uneven since it was like a very small hill, the ladder moved too much and the stone fell and cracked her head. She fell and started bleeding a lot, so she took a towel and went to my house and waited until the moment we got there, and I opened the house.</p><p>When we heard her story, I asked her: "Why didn't you call my mom? She was right at home while you were waiting outside."</p><p>She stayed quiet, and it dawned on us that she never thought about it, and we all kinda awkwardly chuckled a bit.</p><p>Anyways, my dad stitched her head, I think she had 15 points and then we just ate and talked for the rest of the night, with my dad telling her that she shouldn't be so impatient all the time, this time she was lucky that all that was needed was some stitches. But it could've really hurt her or worst-case scenario, it could've killed her since it was a direct hit on her head by a heavy stone and she was 65 years old.</p><p>We laugh about it now because 5 years have passed, and she is still her impatient and healthy self. She toned down the level of impatient, so now she doesn't get critically hurt anymore, but she is still super inpatient and she still hurts herself a little bit.</p><p>So, the lesson of the day, please don't be as impatient as my Hispanic grandma that doesn't take no for an answer and will rather do things herself and get hurt rather than wait for her husband and/or son for help.</p><p> 

</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N- I added the @ in St@r W@rs because it is my first time writing anything to the public and I don't want to get into any kind of trouble with copyright or anything because I don't know what I am doing. The picture above is just a picture I found on the internet and it led me to a website called "Alibaba" to buy the stone sculpture, so credits to the artist but I am sorry I don't know who it is.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. That bullying incident in 6th grade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: Today’s topic mentions a little bit of bullying and just being left out and feeling lonely. Maybe a bit of angst, I don't know.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I used to live in Puerto Rico, I was never the kid who had a lot of friends or anything, in fact, I don’t think I had any real friends. I used to go to a private religious school in Puerto Rico, but I won’t say the name of the school for privacy reasons. Anyways, I was pretty popular, like a lot of teachers and most of the school knew me due to the rare sight of seeing an Asian descent since in that school there were only about 4 Asians in total and because I played in the volleyball team, and that was a pretty big thing since the top two sports at the school were volleyball and basketball, heck, both of those sports took an entire semester starting in August till November and January till April, respectively. </p><p>	Anyways, I remember hanging out with the sporty kids since that is where I belonged due to playing volleyball. The class was divided into two groups, those who played sports and were popular and those who didn’t play sports and were not as known around the school. It wasn’t divided with the stereotypical sporty vs. nerd because in that school everyone had to have a 70% or higher or else, they would expel you, and even having 70%-75% was kind of being on probation, so grades were super important. </p><p>	I remember the first time I started feeling excluded being on my 9th birthday. We were in school during recess/lunchtime and playing hide and seek and I noticed how I was always the last person picked, and it wasn’t even being picked, I just went with whoever needed the last player. I didn’t think much about it when I was younger but now that I think about it. I was never included in anything that the group did. I would be sitting at home, not doing anything, and just going to my grandparents’ house since it was right there, and they were company since I am an only child and didn’t have anyone to play with unless my cousins were visiting our grandparents. I would be scrolling on my iPod (I wasn’t allowed a phone until I started having double digits), and would see all of the group having fun at a beach or a skating place or anywhere, but would never invite me, for 8 years, I was invited to only one outing with them, and I know that was because the mom of the girl organizing this whole thing obligated her to invite me to not leave me out. They never told me, but it was pretty obvious to me since first of all, it was suspicious that they just invited me this one random time after 8 years of it never happening, and second of all, they still left me out even when I was there like it would look as if I was included, but it was never like that, it’s those subtle signs that tell you that you are excluded, like no invitations, being a step behind everyone, not knowing how to enter a conversation because they don’t speak directly to you most of the time, etc. </p><p>	So, there was this girl who I used to think was my best friend, I will call her with just the letter D. because that is the first letter of her name and because she was such a d!ck and I never noticed because I was naïve (she would ask me for money whenever she could, normally about $10 every two weeks or so, every two weeks for 5 years, because she knew my grandma owned a pharmacy and my parents were doctors, so she thought I must be rich or some b.s. like that). I knew her little sister since I was about 6 since we had ballet together, and she transferred to my school in third grade, so because I recognized her as the girl's big sister, I showed her the school and how to adapt quickly. Years passed and we were in 6th grade (I was 10, so I got a phone) when I started telling her about my crush and whatever whatnot because that is what best friends do right? So, I told her I had a crush on this guy, and apparently, she had a crush on him too. One day after school the three of us were just waiting for our rides when she asked him who was the better looking out of the two of us, and he said that it was me, I honestly think he said that because he knew me more than he knew her and we played volleyball together sometimes. She got really mad, and for some reason, she started obsessing over my entire name, like writing my entire name on the blackboard, on her notebook, and whatever. I asked her why she was writing my name so much, and she told me it was because it was pretty. One day it was raining a lot and the bus broke down, but it broke down in front of her house, so I decided to just go to her house and wait for my mom there. We talked and joked, and she facetimed another friend and we were all talking together. After the other girl hanged up on the facetime, she asked me to log in to her Instagram, and I said sure, after some time, she logged out and then asked me for my username and password to log in to my Instagram so I wouldn’t have to log in later. I trusted her so I didn’t think anything about it. </p><p>	A couple of days passed, and we were on spring break when one of the more popular girls in my class DM through Instagram and started screaming what the hell I was doing and why I was commenting that on my crush’s pictures. I had no idea what “that” was, so I asked her what she meant. She was like: “don’t you play dumb with me”. I truly had no idea what she was talking about and I told her so, and I asked her if she could screenshot and send me whatever she was talking about. Then she was like: “You really have no idea?”. I said: “I really don’t”. She sent me a screenshot of my account commenting things like: “I want to have your kids”, “Make me pregnant”, and “I want to change my last name from Linda V. to Linda N.” </p><p>	I was instantly so embarrassed and confused about how this happened, and I told her I had no idea how this happened, and so I deleted the comments and logged out and into my normal account (I had two). Then I saw that more comments started appearing again, and I tried to log back into that other account, but the password had changed. I couldn’t do anything about it and so I just waited till school started again, I was not looking forward to classes (in that school the teachers move and the students stay in one place unless going to P.E.) because I was embarrassed over something I didn’t do but was done with my account. When school began, everyone in my class interrogated me about it and I said it wasn’t me, but they didn’t believe me because it was done with my account and my crush was one of the popular sporty kids, so he was supported by everyone, while me, not so much. </p><p>	 The next move I did was change the password since all I had to do was say that I forgot my password and change it with my email, I changed the password and deleted the account as well as changing the password for the other account, for safety measures. The damage was done however, everyone in my year thought I was some sort of creep or whatever and completely ignored my existence for the rest of the year. That rest of the year, I would receive anonymous calls from this person saying that they would continue to write creepy comments (they created an account with my same username, but with a dot at the end to make it look like it was me, but it was obvious to me that they were an impostor) and continue to convince everyone I was some sort of freak if I didn’t give them two boxes of chocolates and a lot of money, I mean like hundreds of dollars. I would react with the stereotypical; “who are you?”. They would respond saying that I didn’t need to know, I just needed to confirm that I would give them what they wanted. I was said: “Heck Nah, this is my grandma’s business and I don’t have the affordability to be able to give her merchandise for free and give hundreds to someone I don’t even know” They responded that they knew me, and then proceeded to tell me my full name. It was at that moment I knew that it was D. on the other line. No one remembers my entire name apart from my parents, not even my family. She was the only person to have been obsessed with it at some recent point in time and I called her out saying that I knew it was her. She tried to say no and whatever, but I knew it was pure garbage.</p><p>	A couple of months passed, and a new school year began, we were in 7th grade when one of my oldest acquaintances came up to me to tell me that the person that was doing that was D. all along and that he was sorry. I said it was fine (it really wasn’t) and then he told me how she confessed to the girl we had facetimed together that rainy day, and the girl told everyone else to clear my name, because apparently she knew I never wrote those comments, but never had the confirmation, and we weren’t really friends. That year everyone else (minus D.) came up to me and said sorry, I said it was fine. Then we had a volleyball tournament and we were playing truth or dare to pass time and when my turn came up, they asked me if I ever liked my crush, I lied like a normal human, and said I didn’t like him with the straightest poker face I could pull and looked directly into their eyes, they took it as truth and apologized again. </p><p>	That year I was a bit more included and all that, but even with all those smiles and whatever, I felt kinda betrayed that everyone completely ignored my existence for almost 7 months because someone decided to write comments of how much I loved my crush and decided to just think: “Oh, it was written from her account, so it has to be her even when she is plainly telling us, no, and we should have listened to her since we have known each other since we were 4.”</p><p>	A couple of more months pass and I tell my parents what happened (I didn’t tell them it was D. though). They got mad at me for not telling them, but I told them that I didn’t say anything because frankly, I just didn’t care anymore. That incident taught me that someone who didn’t even know me had more belief in me than those who had known me since we were toddlers. I blocked D.’s phone number and anything social media. She got mad at me for not responding one day, because I had blocked her, and she called my mom. Before, my mom would see the contact and would give me the hone for me to answer. That time, however, my mom picked up the phone and told her that I was busy. This girl had the audacity to start insulting my mom and calling her things like “puta” and to put me on the phone and proceeded to start insulting and calling me names. I was absolutely livid. I wanted to tell her parents so that they could do something about it. My mom said it was ok because it would break them how disrespectful and bitchy that girl was for an 11-year-old, especially because her parents were so nice and friendly, and so I let it drop.</p><p>	4 years later (last year), I was talking with my mom about that incident because we had been watching anti-bullying videos at school. I told her that it was D. the one who began everything and that is why I was extra mad that day she called my mom. She got angry on my behalf and asked me why I didn’t tell her it has D. the one at fault, and she would’ve actually told her parents instead of keeping quiet. I told her I just didn’t care, and I was over it. Besides, I have never been bullied apart from that moment, because I learned to stand up to myself and to not take shit from anyone anymore.</p><p>	I really wasn’t over it because that incident taught me so much about real friends and fake friends who are just with you for some kind of benefit or position. I can forgive but I can never forget. I am not one to stay angry and hold grudges, but I can stay disappointed for a really long time (watch out my future kids). I will remember any instance someone has done me wrong, I won’t be angry at them or anything that would display any discomfort coming from me, but I will keep in mind what they had done wrong and that I shouldn’t trust easily or to really be careful with what I say and with my wording. The most important lesson I learned, you may be surrounded by people, but you will only be able to use 5 fingers or less to count the number of true friends that will be there through thick or thin for you. Because believe me, once you get my loyalty and complete trust, there is almost nothing I wouldn't do for you because I will be there to help, support, talk, anything you need me for, because I learned how heartbreaking it feels to put your full trust in someone just for them to only be using you for some kind of benefit and not because they actually like you for you. So please understand that it is better having 1 real friend than many fake ones.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N- Wow, long chapter, 2,344 words. Gosh, this made me a bit sad. I tried really hard to censor myself, so I ended up using only three curse words out of the 20+.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. That One Confusing Moment in AAU's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, as I have said before, I play volleyball. One day in my freshman year of high school, we were at this tournament called the AAU's. We were going to play in about an hour, so we decided to play tag to pass the time and stay warmed up. We ran all over the place. We had a limit on how far we were allowed to go because 1- we needed to keep track of the game in our court to know when to go in, and 2- because it would be unfair for the person who is "it" to have to run around the entire convention center. One of the girls was "it" for a while when she spotted me. She followed me around for a while (I'm the heaviest girl in the team so...it means I'm not exactly the fastest). I may not be the fastest, but I have to say that I got one of the best reflexes due to my parents taking me with them to their Tai Chi training multiple times and I learned by watching them. I may not have said this before, but I am a very observant girl when I want to be.</p><p>Well, I dodged her efforts of trying to tag me by just moving out of the way and going behind trashcans. Then this one moment when I tried dodging her hand by moving backwards, I accidentally crashed with this older, maybe in her 40's, woman. I almost fell but regained balance and looked over at the woman. The woman stumbled a bit, but she also regained balance and looked at me. We made eye contact for about 3 seconds when this grown a$$ woman decided to just dive onto the floor. Like, imagine a penguin just waddling and then stopping for a few seconds and then just sliding on their belly (A/N- example of a penguin sliding in the picture below, arms spread out and everything). Now take that image of the penguin and replace it with a blonde, skinny, 5'8 woman in her 40's doing the exact same thing but making eye contact with you. Then everyone around us looking at us, my teammates included (looking at me, I mean). I stood there for a second and then offered my hand to help her up.</p><p>I said something dumb. I said: "I'm so sorry. Are you okay sir?... I- I me- mean Ma'am?" I stuttered.</p><p>That woman gave me the biggest death glare after that and refused to take my hand, got up, and then left. My teammates came up to me and were like: "Linda, wtf was that?" I obviously answered with an I don't know, because I truly had no idea what just happened. First, I stumble against a woman, then we make eye contact, then she decides to slide on the floor after regaining her balance, then I accidentally kinda assumed/mistook her gender, then she gives me a glare and leaves.  My teammates found it hilarious because I had an ongoing track of having accidents with spectators. First that poor lady I knocked down in the OTVA tournament, and now that confusing moment with that woman in the AAU's tournament. I get a bit embarrassed, but not as much as the other time because that other time I could've hurt the poor lady. This time this woman just decided to slide on her belly for no reason in front of a lot of people, so to me, it is more of her embarrassment than mine.</p><p>Anyways, it's a stupid super short story that I could've told in two sentences, but I like explaining things out a bit and providing more detail because I'm used to doing that when writing my essays. I decided to write it because that's another thing I'm teased about even now, and because of that, the memory is still very clear in my head. I still ask myself why tho? Why she do that? I'm still confused.</p><p>

</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A/N- In my head, I had that meme of the girl asking: "you did this for what?" while writing the scene because I was asking myself that when remembering that woman.</p><p>Me: But... you did this for what?</p><p>Woman: Why not?</p><p>Me: Why?</p><p>Woman: Why not?</p><p>Me: [deep sigh] Why though?</p><p>TBH- That kinda annoyed me a bit, like, answer the damn question and I won't keep asking. Don't respond with a stupid why not? It's annoying asf.</p><p>Anyways, thanks for reading. I hope you are enjoying this book. I am open to constructive criticism. Bye!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Back To School A/N</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hi, so sorry that I haven’t updated these past few days, but it is because I started school this week. I started writing the last week of summer. Sure, it was the first week of school, but me being me (a massive procrastinator) in the IB program does not mix well. I really read 1,000,000+ words in one night, aka 3 books in six hours, because I had to read the books and answer the questions my teachers gave me and to complete some charts. I pulled off an all-nighter the first day of school, but it really isn’t weird because I always pulled all-nighters the first day of school ever since I began my freshman year of high school. But hey! I managed to do all of that and managed to turn it in, now I just need to know my score. I will update every time I can, I will try to update around 3 chapters each week (including weekends). Anyways, that is all I wanted to say for this author note because now I’m going back to writing.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Short stories with my parents part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I am a 16-year-old girl. Meaning, I don’t have much life experience and so I have to count on my parents to tell me stories about their own lives for me to experience more of the real world. That’s all I wanted to say as a warning for future chapters because I really didn’t know when I should’ve mentioned that. I’m used to dragging and making things more in detail because that is how I write my essays, so just know these stories could be told in two sentences and that I am sorry I had to write so much just to get to the point. I tried to write 5 short stories in one chapter, but I completely forgot how much I write when giving details. So I guess these chapters will start to look like part 1, part 2, etc. Please remember that I am inexperienced in free-style writing, thanks.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I hope I have mentioned this before, but I am a really happy person. I enjoy life most of the time unless I’m really stressed with school and go into depressed gen z mode. I just wanted to tell a few short stories of having a fun time with my parents. I’m an only child so I only live with my parents, and we have made thousands of memories that I wish to share. I just won’t be able to share all of them, so I will adjust by telling a few short stories per chapter and hope for the best. I’m also just writing a few at a time because there are so many memories I just don’t know which ones to choose from. Stories with my friends will also be included in future chapters, not this one because it’s specially made for my parents, whom I love more than anything in this world.<br/>
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1-) Circus day</p><p>In my old school in Puerto Rico, we, in fourth grade and below, would receive tickets or coupons to small events near us. An example being how every year the group Atencion Atencion would have a mini-concert for the good students (meaning good grades and perfect record) in my school (it was a private school). Most of you probably don’t know them because they specifically make songs for Spanish speaking children. If you are Hispanic, or at least Puerto Rican and don’t know the group, then I recommend listening to some of their old songs because I swear you will have heard them at least once. </p><p>Anyways, I’m off-topic. So, I received a ticket to go to this circus that was currently near my school. I could go in for free but my parents would obviously have to pay. We went after I begged them for like 100 times. It was fun, people ice skated, there were clowns (you know, when they weren’t scary), there were magic tricks, and acrobats. My dad bought me a clown nose because if you go to a circus where they sell 50 cent clown noses that is obviously what you will do. I put it on and we spent the whole day there. We left and got to our house and I decided I wanted to put the clown nose on my dad because it would be fun, so I did. He looked funny. Then I decided to put it on my mom’s nose. The clown nose didn’t fit. Me, being a very determined person, just pushed it till the nose fit completely. It lasted for about 3 seconds when the clown nose just ripped in half. Ever since that day, we tease my mom that her nose is so big, my clown nose ripped when she put it on. Of course, it’s all in good fun, she knows it’s a joke. In fact, I completely forgot about that story until my mom came up to me and asked me if I remembered that event.<br/>
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2-) Fancy restaurant day</p><p>As you all know, my parents are doctors. I guess you would expect us to go out and buy expensive food, but no. We really love homemade food. It is the best, hands down. Everything is fresh and you know exactly what is inside the food. Also, the process of seeing or making something like mushrooms and spinach into something so delicious, not even little kids can be picky is very satisfying. Regardless, we do go out to eat sometimes, just on special occasions, since my mom and I are the type of person to enjoy eating simple foods. It was my mom’s 40th birthday, my dad got a raise, I was doing really good in my first ever advanced classes, and we had a coupon. So we went to celebrate in a fancy restaurant. We dressed nicely, and by that I mean, I had to wear a dress. Everyone who really knows me knows that it better be something important for me to have to wear a dress. There was no way I would want to stand out in a fancy restaurant because I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. </p><p>We sat down and there was live jazz music playing, softly, next to us. The first thing that was there, bread with garlic butter. Goodness, it was so delicious. In case you are wondering, it was garlic butter because we chose it, you could choose normal butter if you wanted to. Next up was the house salad and the oyster soup as an appetizer, it was so good we had to restrain ourselves from ordering more. Then, our main course arrived. It was a filet mignon set on a sizzling hot plate. Let me tell you that it smelled so good my mouth started watering when I caught a whiff of it coming our way. It wasn’t just the filet mignon, we also ordered side dishes, like normal people. The side dishes were nothing to scoff at. We had ordered the lobster mac ‘n cheese, this potato dish, and crab rice. I never had mac n’ cheese before this moment and I will immediately say that there is no way I can be satisfied by normal plain kraft mac n’ cheese after eating that. The crab rice had lots of crab pieces inside. You might be wondering why I had to point that out when it should’ve been obvious since it was crab rice. Well, most food places that we have been to will tell you that a dish comes with seafood just for them to put a max of 5 pieces, meaning 5 shrimps, 5 octopus leg pieces, and so on. It was a nice surprise. Then, the potato dish. I regret to inform you I don’t remember the name, but I do remember it was so good I needed a couple of seconds to process it in my head. I remember that I stopped eating and started clapping. When my parents asked me about my odd behavior, I told them “Estoy Dando un aplauso para la papa” (I’m giving an applause for the potatoes). Yeah, it was really good. Our dessert came, it was a flambé banana, with banana cake, vanilla ice cream, pecans, and drizzled caramel on top (picture at the bottom). My sweet tooth was very pleased. It was really good and very cool. And no, it wasn’t very sweet, I don’t really like very sweet things, I like having a balance, and that is why I was pleased. After we ate, we left, and in the car, my dad started teasing me and made up a song that my parents still sing today, by making “un aplauso para la papa” the same melody as “Je suis malade” by Laura Fabian. All in all, it was a fun diner.</p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading. It will only be 2 stories for today because I am tired and I still have to finish my homework as well as start to write my college applications. I hope to be able to write more in the future and thank you for your patience. Have a nice day! or night, idk.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. My dad is my hero...literally</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! Today’s story is pretty self-explanatory since my dad literally saved my life one time. I will be telling this story from my point of view, but just keep in mind that it won’t be so much in detail since I was too small to remember and had to rely on my parents to tell me the story. Also, I don’t know if I ever said this before, but English isn’t my first language, so be patient if I make errors in my writing, I had to depend a little on Google to tell me the definition of some words. Warning: Close to death encounter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I don’t know if I have said this before but I have always been a very curious person. So little nine months old me was probably no different, apart from the fact that now I know what to do and not to do. My two aunts, my dad’s sister, and my dad’s brother’s (ex)-wife were taking care of a little nine-month-old me in the office under my parent’s office while they were working. </p><p>I swear, I will always have something I never mentioned before, so from now on I’m just gonna mention it. I know I have mentioned before that my paternal grandparents own a pharmacy. The pharmacy is found in a two-story building (A/N- picture of the outside found at the bottom. Sorry it's kinda blurry, but I can't take a picture since I'm technically in quarantine while living in the United States of America, so I found this picture online), the entire first floor is the pharmacy, while the second story has three rooms. The first room found once you go up the stairs is a storage room, where old and new toys or objects are found that are either going to be sold in the pharmacy or never sold, so they just put it there. The next room found would be down the hallway to the right. That room was where my parents, mainly my mom, worked. It was an oriental medicine arts office in which she would treat her patients using Chinese medicine, such as acupuncture, medicine, suction cups, and herbs. It was always filled with the pleasant smell of herbs. I say that it was mainly my mom was because my dad worked there sometimes, while other times he worked at another hospital, or wherever he was needed, or he could also be finishing getting his Ph.D., I’m not sure, again, I was nine months old. It is a big office that has 7 separate rooms, two living rooms separated by a glass sliding door, two bathrooms (one in one of the living rooms while the other one was for staff), the small counter, and a small kitchen. 4 out of the rooms had a bed for the patients to get treated, 1 of the rooms was my dad’s office, 1 was the room where all the herbs were mixed and grounded to turn into pills, and the last room was my room when I stayed watching tv or sleeping on the mattress. At least, that’s how it is now, I’m not sure how it was 16 years ago, but that is how I remember it was the last time I went there. The last door down the hallway was a small office with a computer and a tv that was connected to the cameras. </p><p>I told the upstairs in detail, so I guess I should do the same for the pharmacy. The pharmacy itself always kind of changed, like it would be remodeled or something, so for the sake of this story, I will describe the oldest memory I have of the pharmacy structure, which was when I was 6. Once you would open the door, there would be a counter to your right, where you could find all kinds of chocolates and candies. Next to the counter are the fridges where sodas and juices could be found, next to it a freezer that contained ice creams and popsicles. To the left of the entrance door, you could find a small area filled with balloons, gift baskets, teddy bears, etc. That was the area where gift baskets were made. More inside you can see the divisions separated as school stuff, toys, hygiene care, etc. At the end of the hallway, there was the actual pharmacy, where all the medicine was made and given to you by the small windows while you waited outside of them where the chairs and coffee makers were. To go into the pharmacy, you would have to write code and then enter once the light turned green. When you entered the door, there would be shelves and shelves filled with all kinds of pills and medicine stuff that I don’t know about yet, turned right and continued straight and you would find another door, where an office was kept for when the employees would have their breaks and eat or whatever they did. That is where I was staying with my aunts.</p><p>My parents were busy working since they took a break during the last month of my mom’s pregnancy and the first month after my birth. So, my aunts decided to offer to take care of me since I wasn’t so bad behaved yet. I was playing on the ground when I found something that caught my eye. As I have said, I have always been too curious, so I immediately went towards that object. It was a small hairpin. I was a little kid, so naturally, I put it in my mouth. Something happened and I tried to swallow it. I started crying because it hurt and my aunts came over and saw the hairpin when I opened my mouth. One of my aunts (the (ex) married one) stuck their finger in my mouth to try to pull it out, but my mouth was too small and her finger was too wide, so accidentally, she pushed it all the way till it went fully in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. According to my other aunt (biological one), you could see the form of the hairpin in my throat. My aunt immediately started panicking once my face started turning red. So she did the logical thing to run upstairs to get my dad who was, luckily, in his office. </p><p>She cried and screamed at him that I was suffocating. My dad immediately got up and they both ran downstairs to see my face completely purple and my eyes barely opened.  My aunt started bawling her eyes out even more while my dad tried to keep a composed façade while panicking on the inside since his newborn daughter was suffocating. So he reacted on instinct. He took my small self, stood me up, went behind me, pressed his hands against my belly, and started pressing hard and fast at a steady rhythm (A/N- Known as the Heimlich maneuver, but if you don’t know it, there’s a picture at the bottom). Then, the hairpin flew out of my mouth. It was covered in hair (since it was used), saliva, and blood. My face started regaining its natural color after a few minutes, and as a child who almost died, I started crying. Needless to say, I was never allowed to be unwatched or around small things until I gained common sense. </p><p>Kinda sad but one of the [13*] reasons why everyone was freaking out so much was not only that I was suffocating, even though it was obviously that, but also because I was born a few months after my paternal uncle was murdered by a thief. So, the panicking was not only that I could’ve died, but also because two inner circle family members would’ve died a few months from each other.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That is my story for today, hope you enjoyed it and to take this as an example of why kids have to be watched or steered clear of small objects that they can put in their mouths. Also, the * symbol before 13 is because I was making a reference, but isn’t part of the story. Credits to the McKesson Corporation for the  Heimlich Maneuver image. Feel free to comment and/or give constructive criticism, I would really appreciate it.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. School short stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N- Hello! Long time no see huh? Sorry, but this year is drowning me in school workload and college applications. Today’s chapter is made up of a compilation of moments I remember in high school. They aren’t very descriptive but yeah, here they are. Warning: Mature topic mentioned in story 6 and 7 if you want to skip.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>1-) My first year in high school, I had a really close friend called Lourdes. She was in most of my classes and we would talk a lot. Then she was sick for about a week and me, along with her other friends, missed her a lot. So when she came back the next Monday, I was elated. We were at school for about an hour, because as freshmen we thought that being early to school was great, I don’t know why. Anyways, I was talking with her when suddenly we hear her name being yelled. She looked to the side but I didn’t react as quickly. Next thing I know, there is a tangle of limbs on the floor. Two of our friends decided to race to see who got to her first, and all of us are known for being competitive. These two girls ran up to poor Lourdes and slammed into her and onto the ground while rolling for a little bit. A senior was next to them and cursed them out while also muttering “stupid freshmen.” Needless to say, I almost rolled on the floor because the image was too funny.</p><p> </p><p>2-) In my school we have a fire drill every month or so, I don't know why, but we do. Storytime my teacher told my class last year since he couldn't contain it inside of him since it happened that same day. Last year we had one of those fire drills. For some reason, everyone has to go to the football field whenever there is a fire, so we all walked there. My teacher was one of the last people leaving the building we were at to make sure everybody managed to get out, for the sake of the drill. As he was going down the hallway, he noticed two students, walking toward the door and on their way to go down the stairs. He managed to catch up with them since they were walking really slow. He said, “I’m sure we can pick up the pace a little bit.” Then, one of the students looks at him, straight in the eye, and says “no we can’t because he is blind” while pointing at the other student. Needless to say, my teacher was red in embarrassment and apologized, he later told us the story to lessen his embarrassment for a little bit.</p><p> </p><p>3-) Not a story, but a confession. I study in the ib program, which stands for international baccalaureate. I don’t like it, they give out unnecessary and pointless homework all the time. There are only two reasons why I still am in the program: 1- if I leave the program, my parents would remove me from volleyball and I know I have said this before, volleyball is my life; 2- My second year of high school, my french teacher started listing off students in her class who she thinks would drop out of the program at some point, and I was one of the mentioned people. I have said this before, I am incredibly competitive, so by saying that I would drop out of ib, she made me want to stay just so I can prove her wrong when I get my diploma. I am halfway there because last year we had to pick a teacher to put the ib pin on us and I chose her, just as another opportunity to say “I’m still here.”</p><p> </p><p>4-) In my second year of high school, I took APUSH, also known as Advanced Placement United States History. I hated that class, not because it was about the U.S or anything, I just hate anything that has to do with social studies. However, there was one good thing about the class, the teacher. That teacher was amazing and I really liked her. If it wasn’t because of her, I wouldn’t have been able to pass the needed credit of U.S. History E(nd) O(f) C(ourse) to graduate. A great thing about her was that she had these two adorable dogs that she would bring to school on special days (picture found at the top). I remember their names, they were Sir. Winston the Wiener and Ella. I just remember her bringing them to school and my goodness!!! They were so adorable, I couldn’t concentrate on whatever I had to do that day. She would bring them on important dates to calm our nerves or just because she wanted to bring them since it was a short day. I just know, I was happy I got to pet dogs at school.</p><p> </p><p>5-) Another story in my second year of high school. I used to be best friends with this girl whose name I will say is M. We still are friends today, just not nearly as close. I used to go to her house very often and just hang out or we would meet up on the weekends, just about anything. I am the kind of person who shows their care through teasing, but I know my limits, if you tell me that something hurts you, I will do what I can to avoid hurting or do anything to help make you feel better. It comes from my family since we all show our love for each other by fighting and teasing. I knew my limits, so I never said anything I thought would hurt her and would actually ask her if she was okay and to tell me if she felt uncomfortable, she never said anything. If I got the feeling she felt uncomfortable, I would stop. Then she started dating this dude and her friends and I all thought he was going too fast and whatever, and she even told us that she didn’t feel comfortable. We told her to break up with him, but she never did, until a couple of months later when we discovered he was cheating on her. I was actually the last person to know she got cheated on, and I got furious. Not at being the last informed, but at the knowledge that someone dared to cheat on this beautiful amazing human being that is M. I did ask her why she didn’t tell me, since I was told by her other friends about 4 weeks after it happened. She told me that she thought that I would tease her about being cheated on. I don’t know about you, but I felt hurt by that. I thought she knew me and that she should know I know my limits and that I am not so much of a terrible person that would tease someone over being cheated on. Honey, I would literally fight for you. I don’t know, things become awkward after that. I would invite her to hang out but she would always find anything to not go with me. We separated and now we are in the range of friends/acquaintances.</p><p> </p><p>6-) This is a teenager’s story, so expect some sort of sexual theme at some point. Don't worry about anything explicit since I have not even held hands romantically, much less anything else. However, in my English class we have read novels that do say a few mature words and I, like the oh so mature person I am, would laugh. I have a friend, I will say her name is F. F is actually someone very innocent minded who doesn't understand the world and I have no idea how she managed to keep her innocent mind in high school. Well, some of the things we have mentioned in class, which were supposed to only be mentioned, were handjobs and blowjobs. F, so innocent, asked our teacher what a handjob was last year since it was mentioned. I wasn’t there to witness that, but I heard it was one of the most awkward conversations ever, and everyone present decided to never let anyone explain anything to her, at least not while in school. Two weeks ago, she asked what a blowjob was after we witnessed a Pep$i ad showing a beautiful woman drinking out of a straw with bright red colored lips. We didn’t let anyone explain anything, we just started screaming that she should keep her innocent mind for now. I just found it really funny, how innocent minded she could be even after these whole years.</p><p>7-) On the topic of F. Another story regards too much of her innocence. Last year, we were all part of a club called, Classics club, which is self-explanatory but would discuss topics like Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome, etc. F. was the club president. One day, she sent an image to the club group chat, which had teachers, students, and parents. The image contained a trojan hot condom box. She sent it thinking it was some sort of Cheeto brand with the name Trojan!!! She literally said “ we should buy something like this for the club, to give around for other people to join,” Someone asked her if she knew what it was. She answered “ I’m not sure, but it sounds spicy” Yeah, she had no idea. Our teacher had to explain to her that it was actually a box of condoms and then told her to look for the definition, pretty sure it was because it would be too embarrassing to talk about that in a group chat with a student. After F. realized what she did, she sent a chain of apologies. Sorry F., but it was way too funny for me not to write about.</p><p> </p><p>8-) Next story is about my favorite Biology class day ever. One day, we had kind of a lazy/lab day. We had to pair up with someone at our table and roll a dice to determine the features of our robot kids (it was a genetic lab). I don’t remember much, but I do remember that I was paired up with two guys since there were 3 people at my table. We did the activities  and it was fun, then one of the boys, his name is Thomas, decided to just try to make as much of a failure as possible. Looking back now, I realize how much of a mood that was. Then, at the end of the class, he decided to name the kid “Failure.” Me, being part of the lab, said no, repeatedly. Then he said, “You left me for him, I get to name the child” while pointing at my other partner. My face went so red after that and everyone started laughing, even Dr. B (our Bio teacher). Dr. B actually said “good one Thomas.” I found it funny, don’t know why. It might have been because I had a small crush on Thomas at that time.</p><p>9-) The next story was also in my first year of high school. Every year we had this little 5k run, don’t remember why, but we did. Because it was such a short day, maybe 30 minutes of class, our A.P. World History Teacher decided to just show us parodies of songs. Let me say, I still remember them and it was great. It is kind of funny how unnerved he seemed after we started yelling at the top of our lungs “fleas on rats.” Anyways, I will go by order of the songs presented. The first song played was a parody of “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga called “French Revolution'', it was quite funny, and him saying he learned his dance moves from her made all of us go into hysterics. The next song was called “Goebbelicious” which was a parody of the song “Fergalicious” by Fergie, yeah, you have to listen to it, we laughed a lot. The next one was a rap song that two of his students made, but I couldn’t understand much of it, so I won’t say anything. The next song was Black Death, a parody of “Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani, here is where we got the “fleas on rats.” Finally, the last song was Henry Henry Henry, a parody of “Money Money Money” by ABBA, here is where I got my information to actually understand the musical group SIX, which is great! Of course, I still have all these songs stuck in my head, even after 4 years.</p><p>10-) My last small story is just me writing how I am now. At the moment, I am in a two-week quarantine because supposedly, someone who has been in close contact with me tested positive for COVID-19. Me, and the rest of our varsity volleyball team, have to stay at home and do online school for this period of time. Today was our first day in quarantine school. I honestly can't wait to come back to school, because sitting on a chair for 8 hours is uncomfortable. All of us actually went and got tested last Friday, which was the day the principal called us to tell us that we had to be quarantined. All of us got negative in the COVID-19 test, but we still can’t go back. I am kind of sad because it is my last year in high school and we were supposed to get our senior night this week, but it can’t happen because of COVID. Anyways, I will see how everything is later on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Follow the Instagram page of @sirwinstonthewiener for more pictures of these adorable dogs.</p>
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